


The Prince and the Shadows

by kaeorin



Series: Loki's Lullabies [30]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Asgard (Marvel), Asgardian Culture (Marvel), Asgardian Loki (Marvel), Asgardian Magic (Marvel), Childhood Friends, Courting Rituals, F/M, Flirting, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:40:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23831758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaeorin/pseuds/kaeorin
Summary: You grew up in Vanaheim, but you spent a lot of time in the palace of Asgard, running wild with the princes. The three of you grew apart, but now that you’re coming of age, it seems that perhaps your mother might want to…encourage you to reconnect.
Relationships: Loki (Marvel)/Reader
Series: Loki's Lullabies [30]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1678240
Comments: 10
Kudos: 219





	The Prince and the Shadows

As the daughter of a Vanir senator, you were not a stranger to the palace of Asgard. In a sense, you had nearly grown up here, getting dragged along for all the various summits and meetings and parties. The palace was so different from your home in the forest, and when you were very small, you hated how alien and strange it was, but, as you grew, you came to appreciate its history and grandeur. And perhaps its inhabitants.

The two princes, Thor and Loki, were great fun. You were all close in age, so often—whenever you could slip away from your mother and roam freely—you wound up playing together. Thor was strong and proud, always wanting to play the part of a hero and rescue a world in danger. He often made you play a damsel in need of saving and, while there was occasionally some fun to be had in that sort of role, it often grew boring. Unless Loki was your captor. He was the younger of the two, and the more fun. He had magic like your own, and loved using it to play tricks on people. The very first time that the two of you met, you’d found a little green snake writhing on a stone pathway through a courtyard. Worried about its safety, and about the temperature of the stone, you’d scooped the snake up into your hands and placed it on your neck to warm it. Not long after that, the snake had exploded into a boy your age, who yelled at you for not being frightened of it. 

As the three of you grew, the boys slipped into the predictable “Girls are gross!” phases, but their mother still made them play with you. It was disheartening, of course, to see the way that Thor’s lip curled in disgust at you, and the way that Loki gave you a wide berth. You took to finding hiding places in the palace, places where you wouldn’t have to force your presence upon the two princes who hated your guts. As you grew older, you spent a lot of time hiding in the shadows of Asgard and practicing your magic.

That was where you were now. There was a little alcove a short distance from the Grand Ballroom, and it held several statues of rulers and noblemen. Your mother was here for the festivities, and had brought you along as always. When she’d helped you dress for the ball, she’d worn a sly expression on her face, and asked if you were excited to see either of the princes.

This had been coming for a long time now. As an only child who had just recently come of age, you knew that your mother was seeking to make good arrangements for your marriage. You’d just hoped that your lack of royal status would give you more freedom somehow: a longer waiting period, or more of a choice in who you married. But your mother was already dropping hints, already trying to gauge your reaction to possibilities. 

Things were not still so old-fashioned at home that you couldn’t have thrown a fit and refused to marry. It would have been a political nightmare back home if your mother had tried to force you into anything. You kept that thought close at hand, sort of as a reassuring touchstone. Ultimately, you would not be forced to marry someone you absolutely did not want to. But it was still your duty to look after your family, your people. So you’d weighed your options, there before the looking-glass, and smoothed down your skirt before meeting your mother’s eyes in the reflection.

“Loki,” you’d answered. “Thor spends too much time talking about the glory of battle. I bore him, I think. But Loki doesn’t always seem to mind being around me. I’m excited to see him tonight.” Her eyes had flashed with excitement and she’d given you a secret smile—as though you didn’t know what she was up to—before turning you around to fix your hair. 

You’d put in what you hoped was an appropriate amount of time in the ballroom. You’d stood at attention for the introductions and the welcome speech. You’d taken your turn dancing with Thor and with Loki before the floor was declared officially open, and you’d spent a bit of time lingering near the grand tables of food to make small-talk with the other dignitaries and royalty. But then you’d ducked out and gone to your closest hiding place.

As someone who had grown up in parties like this one, you’d think that you wouldn’t get so overwhelmed by them anymore. As you were getting older, and expectations were wearing heavier upon your shoulders, you knew that soon you would no longer be allowed to slip away like this. Tonight may even be the last night you could hide away here. So you savored it. Sitting on the floor, you used your powers to conjure up a tiny little ballroom scene of your own, but with mice and insects and trees from back home. This was more manageable than all those people. You hummed a little dance song of your own and watched your creations spin each other around. 

A noise from nearby made you look up, made you erase your illusions with a wave of your hand. A tall, lithe figure loomed there in the entrance to the alcove. Loki. You felt your eyes grow wide and scrambled to your feet. His face was tight, but his hair was wild, like maybe he’d been running, or perhaps touching his hair too much. He did that when he was nervous, you’d long since realized. 

“I didn’t know anyone was in here,” he said in a low voice. A quick, sharp giggle from the hallway made him whip his head around, and then he slipped inside with you. “I don’t want to intrude, but I’m trying to get away from someone.” 

You nodded without speaking, listening instead for the footsteps that were approaching your hiding place. As they approached, you peered around one of the statues to see who they belonged to. A little clutch of Sea Elves stepped lightly past where you were hiding. You recognized the one in the center, though her name escaped you. She was of high ranking on her world, and had been coming to these events even longer than you had. She was very beautiful, in that odd, delicate way that Elves had about them. When you arched an eyebrow at Loki, he silenced you with a fierce glare and an elegant finger pressed to his lips. You watched the Elves look around, heard some of the attendants murmur something to their lady, and then watched them all disappear back into the throng in the ballroom. 

“An elf?” you finally asked in amusement. He groaned and sank down to sit on the floor. 

“I think she’s being forced to marry. She’s been chasing me all night.” He sounded exhausted.

Jealousy and possessiveness stabbed through you, sharp and hot and...queasy. You had never felt that way about Loki. He was fun, when he wasn’t sulking or avoiding you, but you’d never once considered him _yours_. You sat down with him and tried not to sigh. “Not interested in marriage, then?” As a way to keep yourself from looking at him, you conjured up a chess board between you. An invitation. 

“Not to _her_.” Loki accepted your invitation, laying his pieces with a wave of his hand. You liked playing chess with him. He didn’t play like others did. It was interesting to watch how he made his moves, to try to figure out what his intentions were. He kept you on your toes. You had to up your own game when you played him, knowing he’d instantly see through any of the traditional moves. He made you a better player. 

“She’s a princess, isn’t she?” You kind of hated yourself for how you were still talking about her, how you were all but pushing him towards her. You forced yourself to keep your voice light. “You’d be next in line to be King.” Maybe that wasn’t entirely fair. When he was younger, he’d told you how badly he wanted to rule. He hated that his brother was older than him, and that Thor didn’t even seem to realize what it meant to be next in line for the throne. 

“Of _Alfheim_. King Loki in the Coral Castle of Hummingbird Bay.” His voice told you exactly how he felt about that title. You snickered from behind your hand as you pondered your next move. “All she ever wants to do is brush her hair and talk about her enchanted forests. And _giggle_.” He ran his fingers through his hair.

His queen was unguarded. You studied the board carefully, feeling your brain almost whir as you tried to predict what his response to be if you took her. “Well, will you have a say in any of this?” You gathered up your courage and made your move, capturing his piece. He seemed surprised. Was he so thrown off by the threat of marriage that he hadn’t been paying attention?

“I don’t know.” You knew how he hated feeling so powerless, not having full control over his future. Your heart went out to him. Being royal was not all that it was cracked up to be. 

Without thinking about it, you reached out to squeeze his hand. It was a gesture of comfort, nothing more. His skin felt cold, so you reached out with your other hand to fold his hand in both of yours. He startled a bit, but didn’t pull away. “It’ll be fine,” you promised him. “You will be happy.”

He laughed without humor. “Have you seen my future, then?” He captured one of your pieces and allowed it to disappear into thin air. 

But before you could answer him, you heard someone else stop in front of your alcove. They gasped a bit, and then called out for the Sea Elf princess. “I found him! He’s out here!” Loki jumped to his feet again, destroying the board, and took off down the hallway. He kept a tight grip on you, and pulled you along after him. It felt nice to run through the corridors, even if your skirt did give you a little trouble. As you ran, your muscles burned. Your heart pounded. You might have laughed giddily, if you’d had the time. It felt like running through the trees at home, but with Loki still clutching your hand. He pulled you into a deserted room, tucking the both of you into a dark corner. 

This was another of your hiding spots, though you were now too large to be truly hidden, even if Loki wasn’t here with you. Your back was pressed against the wall and Loki shielded you with his body even though _he_ was the one being hunted. You were both breathing hard. You could feel his chest heaving against yours. Had you ever been this close to him? Surely not since the time you’d draped that snake around your neck. He dropped your hand, but then rested both of his hands upon your hips. When you looked up at him, his eyes bored into yours, bright and questioning. Something in your chest cried out as though in answer to him, but you didn’t know what to say.

He rested his forehead against yours, then drew in a ragged breath and let it out slowly. He was so close. You could feel him all along your body. You took in a steadying breath of your own and tried not to let yourself press closer to him. He reached up to cup your cheek in his palm, drawing your eyes back up to his. “Can I kiss you?”

This time, you _did_ know what to say. You wet your lips with your tongue and tried not to shiver at the way the movement drew his gaze. You nodded. He tightened his hands around your waist at that, and stepped even closer to you, but made no move to kiss you yet. When you grew impatient, you tilted your lips up to him and whispered “Please.”

He finally slanted his lips across yours, then, and kissed you with the same kind of hunger that you had felt for years. He was demanding and devouring, and yet always attuned to what you wanted. You whimpered when he tried to part your lips, but kissed him fiercely and joyously. Each time he pulled back for a breath, you dragged your teeth along his lower lip, and relished the way he groaned. 

The two of you hid there for the rest of the night, coming up for air only when you heard your mothers’ voices and footsteps as they came to share the news.


End file.
